


a forgiving heart

by miscellanium



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Aftercare, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Other, Self-Esteem Issues, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miscellanium/pseuds/miscellanium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today is the annual open house for Leo Duel School and the audience is watching you the same way they watch your papa, waiting for the punchline even after cheering for you in the championship. This is all wrong.</p><p>[shingo gets sick during a duel against akaba and yuuya tries to help him.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	a forgiving heart

By all rights, you know, you shouldn't be here. You're a good student but not the best student, not the cream of the crop like you've told your father you are. The knowledge stings. Today is the annual open house for Leo Duel School and the other courses have already had their turn, Shijima Hokuto and the others showing off their specialities against Akaba Reiji in one exhibition match after another. The Sawatari name carries prestige enough and so Akaba said yes to your demands but the general course is not as big a draw and therefore you're the last to go. They'd asked for something in return for this favor, as usual; you gave them your thanks on your knees, as usual.

You'd rehearsed this duel, the two of you going through the action field together with Akaba holding you close, them guiding you from behind with a low voice in your ear. But the audience is watching you the same way they watch your papa, waiting for the punchline even after cheering for you in the championship. This is all wrong.

So you jump for the action card a split second earlier than planned and you know what's coming but it hurts just the same. Akaba's attack barrels hard into your belly, lifting you into the air where you can see everybody looking up at you and before the drop begins there's a soaring feeling which you've missed.

Now you activate the trap card you laid a few turns ago rather than waiting for the monster Akaba had named, saving your life points from rolling down to zero so you can stay on the stage breathing hard but alive.

A pause, then: "At Leo Duel School our students master the art of planning ahead," Akaba says, setting the audience murmuring, and you'd be proud but those cold purple eyes are on you as they say it and it lands like an insult. The pain catches up to you now, ribs aching and a headache starting somewhere in your gut—you shouldn't move, not yet, but there's nothing else to do with everybody watching and so you get to your feet. There's no stopping it after that, no stopping the hot rush of fear you've tried to keep down so long; bent double from retching, almost on your knees again, the sour sensation of it sliding over your tongue while Akaba watches is a not unfamiliar feeling.

Akaba Reiji makes no effort to help. They don't look at the sick around your feet and ask whether they should stop. In fact, they ask if you're going to continue or forfeit and of course you're not going to forfeit.

And so the duel continues. There's a murmuring in the crowd now, fingers pointed not at your monsters but the mess underneath, and you try to pull their attention back to where it should be with some acrobatics but this is a mistake. It's worse this time, nothing but acid all the way up. Someone laughs, voice rising like a question and trailing off when you wipe your mouth and draw another card. Humiliation's already pounding hot under your skin, close to the surface, so close that the next bout of dry heaving might bring it bursting out, bloody.

\---

You lose. It's not a surprise; all the other students lost as well because that was the point of these exhibition matches: show how strong even the losers of LDS can be against a champion. But it still feels wrong. You don't get up and nobody says anything. There's nothing to applaud because you've failed, you've made a fool out of yourself, you've—

"That was a good duel, Sawatari." You know who it is without looking up. His voice is familiar now from all those dreams and nightmares and his pink sneakers are instantly recognizable and offensively cheerful.

"Sakaki Yuuya. What are you doing here?" There's no reason for him to have come to a rival school's exhibition, at least not a good one you can think of. Wanting to see you is an obvious answer because who wouldn't want to bask in your presence, yet there's a whisper of doubt always suggesting he secretly hates you because he doesn't fawn over you so you must not be good enough but you know you're perfect so how dare he and it's an awful loop but you're used to it by now.

Just like every other time, he reaches down to you. "I heard you were gonna be dueling today so I wanted to come cheer you on. And help you get to the nurse's office," he adds with a smile surely meant to be sympathetic but it burns, knowing Yuuya of all people was there to watch you be cut down so brutally. You've lost in front of him before, to him, but not like this, not with stains on your clothes and sweat pasting your bangs to your forehead.

You don't need his pity. It's the wrong kind of attention and you're stronger than this. Push it away, push him away. "I'm fine." But your knees are still weak and when you try to walk you stumble. The hand that grabs your arm is surprisingly strong.

"I insist, Sawatari," he says, voice firm and eyes clear of condescension and you're too tired to argue more. The court is empty now because Akaba Reiji left and took everybody with them. It's a fine arena, fit only for the best like you, but without a crowd it feels sterile and threatening like a promise of abandonment.

It takes a couple false starts but he gets you on his back, legs held close, and the way he folds your hands together against his breastbone makes your chest go tight. He moves fast though, full of energy and life, and the swaying motion starts you sweating again, struggling to breathe. The dizziness is strong in your gut again and you try not to gag but your mouth is right next to Yuuya's ear and he can hear every desperate swallow. Just when the sick feeling reaches the point where you think you might throw up in your mouth he stops, crouching by a bench and gently setting you down.

"Let's breathe together until your stomach calms some more, okay?" There's nothing but kindness in Yuuya's eyes as he takes your hands in his and holds them in his lap. Your stomach won't stop flipping, every inch of your palms hyper-tuned to the softness of his skin, and you want to dazzle him, erase the bad impressions, but the idea of screwing up yet again and draining the amusement from his face—

The anxiety is too much, nausea tangling itself around your nerves and dragging all your worries up your throat—

Yuuya had the luck (or foresight, but don't think about that) to stop near a trashcan and when you bolt for it he follows close behind, sweeping back your bangs with a gentle touch as you grip the cold metal rim and hurl hard. There's still some left to bring up, somehow, and he stays with you, hands cool against your forehead, until your grip on the trashcan weakens.

"Feeling any better?" Yuuya asks, pity clear in his face, and before you can gather the breath needed to yell at him he presses his lips to your forehead—you can feel him go stiff against you, realizing, and he starts saying something about his mother but it's just background noise because god, _Yuuya kissed you_ , skin prickling hot where he touched it, and your stomach lurches—

You manage to whisper, "I need the bathroom." The words catch in your throat but he understands anyway, somehow.

"Where? You know this place better than I do."

You'd overheard Kotsu Masumi and her friends looking for gender-neutral bathrooms one day and told them the closest one. She said thanks, narrowing her eyes as though reconsidering you; after that you didn't hear them making fun of you anymore but they never started defending you either. Not that you had expected them to.

Silently you point down the hall. He grabs your hand and pulls you with him as he sets off again, not as quick as before but still urgent. When you reach the door he almost shoves you in, ignoring your mumbled assertion that you're fine and leaning on a sink to wait while you fumble at the latch on one of the stalls. You need to calm down but it's hard with him out there, saying things you were unprepared for him to say; there is a long road between knowing something (or convincing yourself of it) and having it affirmed.

"Y'know, you're a really good duelist, Sawatari—" Hearing this from him flips your stomach and he cuts himself off when you heave into the toilet, loud. "You sure you'll be fine?!"

Don't answer him. He'll hear how your voice is shaking, hear how weak you are, just like how everybody saw you be so pathetic earlier. But Yuuya was there too which means he's just trying to be nice, soothe your wounded ego, and you love the praise but hate him for it and hate yourself for not being perfect like you know you are, you're the greatest around but you're also a lost cause, you're disgusting, how dare disgusting people exist—

Your face is burning and tears are hot on your cheeks and you're crying now, the sobs echoing off the tile. There's no doubt Yuuya can hear you from the other side of the stall door but he says nothing. You're not used to attention like this, from a forgiving heart; as much as your friends love you it's different because with them there's nothing left you have to prove.

"Why are you doing this?" With your throat raw and nose clogged what comes out is sticky-sounding and there's nothing you can do but try to persuade yourself that you could never possibly sound gross. In fact you sound low and husky, the perfect qualities for seduction. Yuuya's lucky to hear you like this.

You can't see him yet can tell from the softness of his voice that he's smiling, gentle, or maybe shrugging. "People gave me a second chance. You deserve one too."

Something in you quiets at this, stomach aching in a different way as if he'd caught a part of you that you'd forgotten to hide. It's a dull ache but not a bad one, radiating warmth throughout your body, and though your legs are shaky and though you must be pale you open the door to finally look Yuuya in the eyes. He takes your hand yet again, interlocking his fingers with yours, and grins at you, big and full of teeth, until you can't help but smile back. 

"I don't need you to hold my hand," you mutter, rolling your eyes for emphasis. "I'm not a baby." Your grip on his hand tightens despite yourself and he squeezes back. 

Lips parted, you're ready to criticize him for underestimating you but he just smiles at you again, bright with affection, and the way his eyes shine in the harsh fluorescent light makes it clear this river runs deep and so when he tugs on your hand a little to walk you out of the room you let him take the lead. Sometimes it seems like you're always following him, unable to surpass him no matter how hard you try, but in this moment you're content. Despite having seen beneath the surface Yuuya still finds it easy to love you and in this moment that's all you need.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! please leave kudos and/or comments if possible, they mean a lot to me


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